


Damianos's visit to Arles

by mfingenius



Series: Courting Traditions [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Laurent has a crush on Damen, Misunderstandings, Still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfingenius/pseuds/mfingenius
Summary: Three years after the peace treaty was signed at Marlas, Damianos, Theomedes, and Kastor visit Arles to discuss the terms of the treaty.Laurent is sixteen now, and thinks is old enough to take a certain Crown Prince to bed.Auguste disagrees.Damianos misunderstands.





	Damianos's visit to Arles

“Laurent, will you please be _still_?” Auguste asks, amused.

Laurent’s been bouncing excitedly around the castle since Auguste told him Crown Prince Damianos would be coming over to discuss some terms of the treaty. It’s been three years since what happened at Marlas, but Laurent’s fondness of him hasn’t diminished.

“I am,” Laurent complains, rocking back and forth on his heels excitedly at the sight of the Akielon’s ship. He’s tugging at the laces on his wrists – he used to hate them as a child, and even now he doesn’t like them – and Auguste pulls his hand away from them and ties them again. “What’s taking so long?”

“They’ve only just arrived, Laurent.” Auguste laughs. “They’re getting off the ship.”

Laurent scowls lightly. Since he turned fourteen, two years ago, the courtiers and commoners alike started to take notice of his beauty; Auguste doesn’t like what it’s done to him. The comments have made his smiles rarer, his affection even more, and everything he does is carefully balanced, done with ice-cold indifference and careful calculation that Auguste never had to have.

It’s why he’s so happy at seeing him like this, even if it is over the Crown Prince of Akielos. Auguste scowls before he manages to school his expression.

“I’m a little bit excited,” Laurent admits finally, blushing a little.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Auguste teases. Laurent’s blush gets darker and he glares at his older brother, no real heat behind it. “It’s alright, Laurent. We’ve all had crushes.”

Laurent makes a choked sound and his cheeks go crimson. “I do _not_ have a crush on Prince Damianos.”

“Sure, you don’t.” Auguste agrees easily, and Laurent turns to him fully, frowning, already opening his mouth to argue. “Welcome to Arles, King Theomedes. Prince Damianos. Prince Kastor.”

Laurent turns quickly, and his entire face lights up at the sight of Damianos.

“Prince Auguste. Prince Laurent.” Damianos smiles brightly and bows his head, as is proper.

King Theomedes greets them, too, but Kastor merely looks bored, not bothering with a greeting. Auguste doesn’t like the look he gives Laurent.

“I’m sure you’re tired,” Auguste says politely. “We’ll ride with you to the palace, and you can rest there until the feast.”

Laurent pouts slightly beside him, but quickly schools his expression into careful politeness. The ride to the palace is filled with polite small talk – Laurent, usually flawless in his saddle, is constantly squirming and shooting not very subtle looks at Prince Damianos – and when they get there, King Aleron greets the Akielons with a smile.

Auguste orders Jord to show the Akielon guards to their quarters, and King Aleron walks away with King Theomedes, so Laurent and him are left alone with Damianos and Kastor.

“I’ll show you to your rooms,” Auguste says.

They show Kastor to his rooms first, and he locks himself in them without saying anything. Prince Damianos exhales.

“I apologize for him,” He tells them. “He’s in a foul mood.”

“It’s alright,” Auguste says. “I’ll show you to your rooms now, if you’d like.”

Damianos nods, but before they can begin walking, Jord walks in.

“Your Highness,” he addresses Auguste. “You are needed in the throne room. It seems the Patrans have sent a messenger.”

“Alright,” Auguste says. He turns to Damianos. “Prince Damianos, would you like to accompany me, or-”

“I can show him to his rooms.” Laurent says, eagerly, and Auguste narrows his eyes. Laurent goes red. “I – I mean – I’m sure the business with the Patrans does not concern Prince Damianos. I can show him to his rooms. So he can rest. From his trip.”

Auguste does _not_ want to agree with this. He cannot possibly think of a worse situation than his baby brother with the Crown Prince of Akielos – who has such a reputation and a taste of blondes that even _Auguste_ has heard of it – alone in a bedroom.

Auguste still remembers their mother, but Laurent never even got to know her; she died during his birth, and King Aleron never bothered to take much – if any – part in Laurent’s upbringing. For those reasons, Auguste has been raising Laurent for most of his life, and it comes with a certain feeling of… protectiveness. Laurent is sixteen, and Auguste is used to being the only one looking out for his wellbeing.

Which is why he says, “Fine. Jord can go with you.”

“But he’s your guard.” Laurent says, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I have my own guard.”

Lazar – a used to be mercenary turned Laurent’s guard – gives him a dirty grin. He had no respect for anyone before Laurent, and continues only barely respect Auguste. He seems to be fond of Laurent though, and he has yet to let anything happen to him, so Auguste tolerates him.

“Fine.” Auguste says. “Lazar, you don’t leave them alone.”

“Auguste!” Laurent’s cheeks are burning red, and his glare is venomous. Auguste cocks an eyebrow at him and stares him down. While they’re having their staring contest, Damianos frowns, looking between them, a little confused. “I’m not a _child_.”

“You are sixteen.” Auguste says calmly. “You _are_ a child, and you’re a child under _my_ care.”

Laurent’s jaw tightens. “Lazar, you’re dismissed for the day.”

“Lazar, you are _not_ dismissed.” Auguste says. Though Laurent has never needed much discipline, on the few instances that he does, he’s incredibly stubborn, which is why Auguste learned that it is always better to let Laurent have multiple options, even if they are options Auguste has set. “You will be escorting prince Laurent and Prince Damianos to Damianos’s rooms.” Laurent opens his mouth to argue, but Auguste continues. “ _Or_ I can escort Prince Damianos myself after I’m done with the meeting.”

Laurent glares at him, but Auguste merely spreads his hands in a ‘your move’ gesture. Laurent looks away first.

“Fine.” He says sharply. “Lazar will accompany us.”

Auguste relaxes slightly and follows Jord towards the throne room.

*

“You’ve grown a lot,” Damen says, as soon as they’re left – relatively – alone. He felt like he couldn’t be informal with Auguste around. “I think you’re about as tall as I was when I was twelve.”

Laurent laughs and shoves him slightly. Of course, it has no effect whatsoever on Damen, but he still appreciates the effort.

“We can’t _all_ be giant animals.” Laurent says. Damen laughs richly. “How was Akielos?”

“Good,” Damen says. Then, he teases, “No one to improve our abysmal military strategies without you around.” Laurent looks down to hide his smile. “How was Arles?”

Laurent shrugs a little. “It was… odd, after Uncle was sent to prison. For a while. It’s been three years and we’re still arresting people who were in on it with him, or who are still helping him from the outside.”

“I’m sorry,” Damen says sincerely. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be betrayed by your own family.”

Laurent gives a tilt of his head and no further answer; it is evident that it is not a topic he likes to talk about, so when he tentatively changes the subject, Damen lets him. “What would you like to do today? If you’re not too tired from your trip, and busy in meetings with my brother, that is.”

Damen smiles gently. “I’m never too busy for you, Laurent.”

Laurent’s smile is blinding.

Though they haven’t seen each other in three years, they exchange letters often, which would make it feel like it hadn’t been three years at all were it not for Laurent’s physical appearance.

His beauty is breath taking. His cheekbones are more prominent, his hair short and slightly mussed, eyes wide, and innocent, and the bluest blue Damen’s ever been fortunate enough to see.

It’s evident he’s not the only one who’s noticed; he’s seen the looks the courtiers and guards alike have given Laurent while they pass, and he feels a surge of protectiveness in his chest.

Though it is true that Laurent’s beauty is unparalleled, he is still sixteen; a child, Damen considers, even if he’s smarter than most people are. Though admittedly Damen had already bedded people at that age, it feels different with Laurent. That was always something he wanted, something he controlled. Laurent can’t very well control the looks that get thrown at him, and, if his expression when he notices them is anything to be trusted, he doesn’t like them.

It makes Damen want to order the guards to look away, whether or not they’re under his command.

“I… don’t know what you would enjoy.” Laurent admits shily, eyelashes fluttering as he looks down.

“What do you usually do in the palace?” Damen asks. He’s sure he can enjoy anything Laurent likes; he has very few things he truly dislikes.

“Read,” Laurent says. “I spend a lot of time in the library. I like riding, too. Or we could go to my rooms.”

He looks up at Damen through his eyelashes, and Damen shrugs with a smile.

“If that is what you would prefer.” He agrees. “What would you like to do there?”

Laurent blinks at him, stunned, and Damen hears Laurent’s guard – Lazar, Auguste had said – make a choked sound behind them.

“Err.” Laurent says, uncertain.

“Do you not like to fight with a sword?” Damen suggests, because Laurent seems at a loss of words. “I enjoy it very much.”

“Sure,” Laurent says. He’s looking at him oddly. “You can teach me.”

“You do not know how?” Damen is truly baffled; Laurent is a prince, and when he was a child his country was at war. Surely he was taught.

“I know how,” Laurent says. He hesitates, and then; “Damianos, are you certain you wouldn’t like to go up to my rooms?”

Damen frowns lightly. “I appreciate the offer, Laurent-”

He’s about to say that if that is what Laurent would prefer, he’d gladly spend the day in his rooms, but Laurent flushes deeply and looks away.

“Right.” He says. His voice sounds odd. “I – forgive me. I’m going to my rooms. Lazar, please escort prince Damianos to his quarters.”

And then Laurent walks away quickly. Lazar sighs and claps Damen on the back, and Damen can only watch Laurent’s retreating form in confusion.

*

Auguste doesn’t see Laurent for the rest of the day – even though he does see Damianos – and he has the mild hope that his anger will have worn off. He’s wrong. He has to deal with Laurent’s quiet anger during the feast. There are several courtiers and pets walking around – Laurent has always disliked the pet system viciously, and, though the courtiers – and Auguste himself, at times – used to think that he would grow to like it once he was interested in the sort of things pets do, they’ve been proved wrong – and most of the Akielons, royalty and soldiers alike, seem to be in one of two situations: constantly red in the face because of the pets’ boldness, or entirely dazed and distracted by it.

King Aleron and King Theomedes spend the entire time in deep conversation about politics or each other’s countries. Kastor does not speak at all, and though Auguste spends most of the meal talking to Damianos, he feels Laurent’s silence like a heavy weight.

When Damianos is distracted by one of the courtiers, Auguste turns to his brother.

“I heard you left Damianos alone,” He says in a low voice, trying to coax Laurent into conversation.

“Yes.” Laurent says.

“And you retired to your rooms?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Auguste inwardly sighs and pushes further. “Did you do anything interesting?”

“No.”

Auguste fights back the urge to smack him. He loves his brother more than he loves anyone else in the world, but Laurent can be difficult when he wants to be. It is so rarely directed at Auguste that he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Are you still angry?” He asks, even if it’s obvious.

Laurent glares at him, which makes it the first time he’s even _looked_ at Auguste since that evening. “Yes.”

“But you understand why I did it?”

“Yes,” he says cuttingly, and, for a second, Auguste is relieved. It fades with Laurent’s net sentence. “Because you don’t trust me.”

“That is not why.” Auguste says.

“It doesn’t matter.” Laurent says dismissively. “He rejected my advances.”

His cheeks are red, and Auguste realizes he’s ashamed. He wants to tell him that he has nothing to be ashamed of; Damianos is twenty two. If he _didn’t_ reject the advances of a sixteen year old child, it would’ve been cause for disgust.

“Laurent-” Auguste begins, but then Laurent looks at him and Auguste notices the red rim of his eyes. Whenever Laurent cries, his face gets red for _hours_ , which means the tears aren’t recent, but he knows his brother well enough to know that they were there. “Have you been crying?”

Laurent’s cheeks go redder, and his glare narrows further. Before he can say anything, Laurent sets his cutlery down and stands without having eaten anything. Auguste makes a mental note to bring him some dessert later.

Since there are many people in the room – and Laurent is an expert in slipping between courtiers and guards unseen (a habit that used to drive Auguste insane when he was younger and thought it fun to hide from the guards in a regular basis) – Laurent is able to slip from the room relatively unnoticed, Lazar walking quietly behind him.

It’s one of the other reasons he tolerates Lazar; he seems to have none of the trouble Laurent’s past guards used to have at following him around, slippery as he is, and, instead of seeing it as an annoying habit, him and Laurent seem to have made it into a game.

“Where is Laurent?” Auguste turns to look at Damianos and feels an odd surge of thankfulness.

“He didn’t feel well,” he lies. He hesitates, and then, “I hear you rejected his advances.”

“His advances?” Damianos blinks at him, stunned.

Auguste cocks an eyebrow. “Did he not proposition you?”

Damianos’s frown deepens. “No. He asked me to his rooms, but-” his eyebrows raise in surprise and his cheeks go red, visible even in his dark skin. He clears his throat. “I meant no offense. I didn’t think – I didn’t realize that was what he was offering.”

“If you had, would you have said yes?” Auguste asks.

“Of course not!” Damianos seems offended. “Laurent is-” he seems to struggle for words to describe Laurent, and ends up only shaking his head fondly. “He is an impressive person. But he is a child.”

Auguste settles back in his chair, pleased. “There is no offense taken, I assure you. I – thank you.”

Damianos frowns. “For rejecting his advances? Anyone would’ve!”

Auguste shakes his head and looks around at the courtiers. “No. Since Laurent was fourteen – well, there are a great many people interested in getting him into bed. Had he propositioned anyone else, I doubt they would’ve said no.”

Damianos looks disgusted, and Auguste likes him all the better for it.

“That is-” he shakes his head.

“Vere is not kind to beauty, Damianos, and it is specially cruel to children.” Auguste says. Laurent wants desperately for the council and the courtiers to take him seriously, but, because he has not bedded anyone, or taken a pet, they still see him as a child. It affects him more than he lets the others know, and Auguste swears that when he reigns, he won’t let the council nor the courtiers treat anyone as they have treated his brother, not because they’re young, and not because of what they have or haven’t done in bed. He takes a deep breath. “You should talk to Laurent. He thinks you rejected him knowingly.”

Damianos nods nervously. “Anything I should know?”

Auguste eyes the table, grabs Laurent’s abandoned plate, and piles it with all of Laurent’s favorite desserts. “Take these. He’ll listen to you at least for as long as it takes for him to eat them.”

Damianos nods.

*

There’s a knock on Laurent’s door, and he sniffles into his pillow.

“Go away, Auguste!” he says. There’s a pause, and another knock. Laurent rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer. They knock again, and Laurent stands, annoyed, and walks over to the door to open it. Instead of Auguste, however, Damen is standing there, looking sheepish and holding a plate-full of desserts.

“Hello,” he says. He offers the plate of sweets. “Your brother said these might provide some incentive for you to listen to me.”

Laurent looks down at the plate – all his favorites – and then up at Damen’s pleading look. Lazar, behind Damen, shoots him a ‘how bad can it be’ gesture. Laurent rolls his eyes.

“Come in,” he says, taking the plate from Damen. “You have as long as I take to eat this.”

And he sits on his bed. Damen seems unable to figure out where to start, before he simply blurts:

“I didn’t realize what you were – I didn’t realize what you were inviting me to do.” He says. “I didn’t reject you knowingly.” Laurent’s mind begins to work faster, wondering if Damen is saying that he would like to take him up on his offer. However, Damen continues. “Which does not mean I wouldn’t have rejected you. I would’ve.”

Laurent shoots him a cold glare and feels heat growing in his cheeks. “Is that what you came to say? _I didn’t know I was rejecting you, so I’ve now come to reject you knowingly?_ ”

“No!” Damen says quickly. “No! I – Laurent, I came to tell you that I meant no offense by rejecting you. You are incredibly clever, and interesting, and entirely too beautiful, but you are _sixteen_. You are a child.”

Laurent looks at him skeptically. “So you had not bedded anyone at this age?”

“I had,” he admits. “And I am not telling you not to bed anyone. I am telling you that if you want to bed someone, you should bed someone your own age. I’m not – Not me, not the courtiers outside, not someone who could manipulate you into thinking it is something it isn’t.”

“Would you?” Laurent asks. “Try to manipulate me?”

“No!” Damen says.

“Then why-” Laurent begins heatedly, leaving the plate aside and standing, and Damianos stops him.

“Because you are too young.” He says, with the air of finality of someone who expects the other person to drop the subject.

Laurent swallows his anger and settles back in his bed.

“Are you saying you’d bed me if I were older?” He asks.

“What?” Damen asks.

“You’ve said that the only reason you did not accept my offer is my age.” Laurent says. “If it is the only thing that is stopping you, you will have no problem with me bringing it up later on.”

Damen throws his hands up, exasperated. “You’re infuriating.”

Laurent lifts a shoulder and cocks an eyebrow. Damen sighs.

“When you’re twenty. At least.” He says. “Even if – even if we begin courting before. I will not bed you until you’re twenty.”

Laurent’s stomach does a small excited flutter at the mention of courting.

“Alright,” he agrees, easily enough.

Damen glares lightly. “But I will not hear of you propositioning me again until then. Or any older men.”

Laurent smirks. “Jealous?”

Damen looks up. “ _Laurent_.”

“Fine, fine.” Laurent rolls his eyes. “I won’t bed anyone who would be able to manipulate me. Which, I’ll inform you, older or not, I’m smarter than almost all courtiers here.”

Damen smiles.

“I don’t doubt it.” He says.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @mfingenius :DD


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